There'll Be No Living With Her After This
by keliz2005
Summary: There is a reason forgiveness isn't easy for Jack. When Elizabeth comes to him looking for just that, secrets from his long forgotten past are revealed, giving new light to just who is 'Captain Jack Sparrow'. AWE Spoilers. JE angst. On Hiatus. Sorry!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or anything affiliated with it. Disney, sadly, owns all. Oh, how I wish Captain Jack was mine.

**A/N:** Spoilers for AWE. Read at or own risk. Most of it is just speculation on my own part, though. I am really proud of this piece. It may not be the best plot I've ever come up with, but I think my writing has improve greatly over the last stuff I tried to do. Also, this is all I have written so far, but I do have the plot points for the next bit written down. So if you want any more chapters, please review. If there are any spelling and/or grammar errors, please do not blame me. Blame my shoddy excuse for a spellchecker. :P

* * *

**There'll Be No Living With Her After This**

_This is exactly why I didn't want to come here_, Jack thought as he leaned back against the wall. There were too many captains in one room and not enough sense between them. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, trying to block out the quarrelling and bickering voices of the Brethren.

He was not in the mood for this. He could think of hundreds of other places he'd rather be. Like the gallows of Port Royal waiting for the hangman's noose. He grimaced at the memory. _Or maybe not_. At the helm of the Pearl during the height of a storm, with the sea waves crashing on the deck, the wind whipping at his face and the rain pelting down. _Better, but not quite_. Or maybe on some deserted island in the midst of the Caribbean, with nothing but an endless supply of rum. _Yeah, that was it_.

He sighed and felt a grin come to his face. The sun was shining, the rum was flowing, and he was blissfully alone. He was lying on the hot sand, and he had not a care in the world. And he was completely and thoroughly smashed. This was the life. He lifted the rum bottle to his lips, but nothing came out. He frowned. The bottle was empty. Well, that was no problem. He'd just get another one. He stood and stopped to listen to the waves crash into the white shores. He took in a deep breath, but instead of smelling the sea air, he smelt smoke. _Smoke!_ He turned around quickly to see his rum in flames, and a woman who looked only too proud of herself. _It's the only way. Don't you see? _A wicked glimmer shone in her eyes, and a spiteful smile played on her lips._ I'm not sorry_.

His eyes snapped open. _Bloody hell_. He shook his head to clear the daydream. He could hear the others arguing still, and her distinctly feminine voice had risen above the others. He couldn't see her, but he knew she was in the thick of it, squabbling with the other keepers of the eight. He huffed. _They don't stand a chance against her_. The crowd moved some, and then he could see her in all her glory. Her face was red with anger. The rest of the men weren't listening to her apparently. They were even more stupid than he thought. He could see Barbossa standing behind her, looking on with something akin to pride. His eyes narrowed. _That's interesting_. He watched as she seemed to give up the argument and turned to Barbossa. His former first mate stepped forward and picked up where she had left off. _That's very interesting_.

The voices only got louder as Barbossa took up the dispute. Most pirates weren't as shy about yelling at a man as they were at a woman. And they were beginning to grate on his nerves. He could feel his blood pounding in his head. _I should have never agreed to come here sober._ He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the pain. _Where's the rum when I need it?_ He realised it wasn't working and dropped his hands. And there she was, her back against the opposite wall, eyes closed, hands pressed against her temple. She was a sight to behold. He couldn't help but stare at her as she slowly got her breathing under control. Her hands gradually stopped and lowered to her sides. He could see her push the anger away. He was so captivated by her in that moment he hadn't noticed she had opened her eyes and was looking at him. He was caught. _Damn it!_ Hardening his gaze, he pushed off the wall and walked out of the chamber. _Bugger, bugger, bugger_.

&&&&&&&&

_I've had it with wobbly-legged, rum soaked, pirates!_ They wouldn't listen to reason. Clearly they all wanted Beckett and the Company to win. _Well, fine! Be that way. _She turned to Barbossa and gave him a pleading look. He got the hint and stepped forward to take over. She sighed and moved out of the crowd. She leaned against the wall and gave them all one last look before she closed her eyes. _Just don't look for any sympathy from me when you've got the hangman's noose around your necks_. She huffed and closed her eyes as she leaned against the wall.

She reached up and rubbed her temples. This was not how Elizabeth pictured her life going. She was supposed to have married Will months ago. After the wedding, they were going to visit her mother's family in England for time before going back to Port Royal, where they would move into the house her father had bought them. _Oh God, Father!_ She felt a tear flowing down her cheek. She discreetly wiped it with the palm of her hand. _This is not the time for tears_, she told herself. _After the battle is over, then I'll have a good cry_.

She took a few deep breaths to calm down. She needed to be strong in order to convince the other pirates to band together and fight for their freedom. She couldn't understand why they were reluctant to engage in battle. Pirates were supposed to be fearsome men and women who ran head long into the first sign of a fight. They weren't supposed to be cowards who ran away at the first sign of trouble. She pushed harder against her forehead. She wasn't going to think about that. _Too late_, she thought.

She hated that man. No one infuriated her more than Captain Jack Sparrow. He was smug, arrogant, and it was entirely his fault that they were all in this mess. She wanted to strangle him with her own bare hands. He was a liar and a coward. Never before had someone inflamed so much passion in her. And by God, she still wanted him. Even after finding out the truly wretched things he is capable of, she still wanted him. Her fiancé is missing and more than likely dead, and she was standing here daydreaming about another man. There had to be something wrong with her, she knew, but she couldn't help it. Jack may be a liar, but he had come back. _You're a good man, Jack_, she thought, _just not a great one_.

_Pirate_.

She'd more than proved him right since he'd called her that. She has lied, cheated, stolen and killed more in the past few months than she ever thought herself capable of. He'd been right about her from the start. She was a pirate. And what did it get her? A bunch of rowdy men unable to agree about anything. _Arrgh!_ She gave up on her headache and let her hands fall back to her sides. Her companions were getting louder anyway. She sighed. _They're not worth the aggravation, Elizabeth_. She took a few more deep breaths to help clear her mind. It seemed to work until she felt someone's eyes on her. She opened her own and glanced over at the group of pirates, thinking it was one of them, but they were all ignoring her in favour of arguing. _But everyone on this island is over-_

She gazed around the room until she found him. How she had missed his presence she didn't know, but there he was directly across from her. He was staring at her. His eyes travelled over her body hungrily. She had never seen such a look on any man's face, least of all his. It made her feel weak and powerful all at the same time. She felt his name coming to her lips when his eyes found hers and he recoiled in shock. She realised then that he'd been so caught in the moment that he hadn't seen her watching him. She wanted to go to him, but was frozen when his look turned cold before he stormed out of the room.

_Oh, you coward_. The other pirates in the chamber hadn't noticed Jack's angry departure. With one quick glance in their direction to make sure they still weren't looking, she pushed off the wall and ran after the rapidly retreating man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Again, I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of its characters. All hail the Mouse.

**A/N:** My muse hates me. If this chapter doesn't live up to its potential, I'm sorry. The ending wrote itself, but everything else was ridiculously hard. I don't have a beta or anything, so it may be somewhat disjointed. So again, any spelling and grammar mistakes belong to my spellchecker (and me…lol). I've also fixed some problems I noticed in Ch.1. Nothing major story-wise, just some little errors. I also raised the rating. Not for this chapter, but maybe for the next. I'm thinking that there are one or two more chapters after this. I hope you enjoy it, and please review.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Of Wing-clipped Birds and Busy Little Bees**

He was still dead. It was the only explanation. He was in purgatory, and this was all an elaborate hallucination concocted as part of his punishment. Either that or he'd been so bored listening to the Brethren argue that he had fallen asleep against the wall and was having a nightmare.

"Wait!"

He could hear her calling out behind him, running to catch up. He was determined to ignore her. He'd done a pretty good job of it since his return from the dead, and he had no plans of stopping just yet. She could take a long walk off a short plank for all he cared.

"Jack, stop!"

Why was she after him anyway? Excluding the hug she had given him when they had found him, she'd been ignoring him just as much as he was she. She'd even gone so far as to insist that he call her Miss Swann again. She had shown him nothing more than tolerance. And now she was willingly seeking him out. It didn't make any sense._ Since when do women make sense, mate_,his mind told him,_ especially this one?_

"Jack!"

Her voice sounded desperate. _Good_, he thought. _Feel desperate. Feel what it's like to watch what you want slip away from your grasp._ Her footsteps sounded like they were getting closer, but he wasn't about to look to see how close she was. He didn't want her to think he was acknowledging her. Instead, he increased his speed through the twists and turns of the passageway and hoped he'd loose her.

"Wait! Please!"

He almost tripped over a rock that was in his path. _She's begging?_ He couldn't believe Elizabeth Swann would ever beg him for anything. But he convinced himself it was all a ruse to make him stop and kept going._ A little begging never hurt anyone._

"Captain Sparrow, please stop!"

_Oh bloody hell_. She'd called him Captain _and_ was begging. Reluctantly, he stopped next to one of the many doors that lined the walls and waited.

&&&&&&&&&

She would have sighed with relief when she came around the bend and saw him leaning against the wall had she not been out of breath.

He was smirking at her, the bastard. "Elizabeth, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

_Miserable Wretch. He's enjoying this. Well two can play that game._ "It's Miss Swann," she told him virtuously.

His smirk faltered for an instant, and his casual stance turned rigid. "Oh yes, of course. I forgot you're a proper lady." The sarcasm was dripping off him. His eyes found hers and seem to dared her to say otherwise what they both knew was true. Her resolve nearly faltered under his gaze, but she held strong.

"May we speak, Captain Sparrow?" she asked, ignoring his dare.

"Are we not?" he asked with mock sincerity.

"Jack," she admonished. He was impossible. She was starting to regret coming after him. She didn't know what she hoped to accomplish. She had just felt compelled to follow him. The look he had been giving her only minutes before had stirred something inside her that she'd been trying to hide for weeks, even months. _Try a year, Elizabeth_. She glanced over his enticing form and saw the compass hanging from his belt. _This is entirely the compass' fault._ If it hadn't pointed to him, she would have never of had to face the truth. She could have lived comfortably in denial for the rest of her life as William Turner's wife. Instead, the wretched thing had pointed to what, deep down, she knew already. That she, Miss Elizabeth Swann, daughter of the Governor of Port Royal, wanted the infamous pirate, Captain Jack Sparrow. She'd never thought such a match could ever exist outside her fantasies. _Many, many fantasies_.

It wasn't like she'd settled for Will. Quite the opposite. She had loved Will, and still did. He was brave and sweet. Kind and loyal. He was what she dreamed of marrying since she was a little girl. But the child had grown. She was a woman now, and the woman wanted the pirate. The questioned was, did the pirate want her? She'd been certain of it before, when she had still been in denial about her feelings for him. But now that she had come to terms with her owns emotions, his were no longer so easy to read. She had to know._ He must feel something for me other than disgust and contempt_. And she was going to get her answer whether he liked it or not. She just needed a plan.

She glanced around and saw a door behind her companion. She smiled.

&&&&&&&&&

She was smiling. It was unnerving. _Just what is the bird up too?_

She stepped towards him. "May we speak, in private?" She pointed over his shoulder to the door. He narrowed his eyes. He didn't think it was a very good idea to be alone with her, given what happened the last time they were alone, but something told him he wanted too.

Slowly he answered, "Alright." Without turning his back on her, he opened the door and held out is arm with a flourish. "After you, my lady." She smiled again and as she walked past he felt her fingers graze his belt. He froze. _Did she just-?_ Desire shot through his veins before he thought of the last time she had touch him and the anger took over. There was no chance that he was falling victim to another one of her traps. He'd listen to what she had to say, and then he'd leave. Steeling himself, he stepped into the room behind her, and shut the door.

She had her back to him. She'd said what she was about to say once before, but her face had been buried in his shoulder. She could no more look him in the eye now than she could then.

"Well, speak, luv. I haven't got all day." He was beginning to lose his patience.

_It's now or never, Elizabeth_. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Jack. For what I did." It was nothing more than a whisper.

He'd heard her. Heard what she said and what she was trying to say. Heard her the first time too, when he was convinced he was dreaming her presence in his arms. But it had been no dream, and this was no nightmare. He huffed. "That's all well and good, luv, but you've apologized already. So unless there's something else, I'll be on my way." He was not about to let her get the upper hand.

She twirled around. She should have been shocked by his show of indifference, but since coming back to the world of the living, he'd been a changed man. Cold and distant. Not just to her, for whom he had reason, but to everyone. She'd overheard Gibbs and Marty talking about it on deck one night. They'd been leaning against the rails of the Black Pearl, speaking in low voices. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but when she heard Jack's name, she couldn't help but listen. Marty had said Jack was acting even stranger than he had before his death. Gibbs had nodded his head and agreed, said that it was to be expected since he'd come back from the dead and all. Not hearing anything she didn't already know, she'd been about to turn and head below deck, when Gibbs spoke up again. 'Whatever had Jack vexed before, it's only gotten worse, I tell ye. Don't tell anyone this, but…' he'd glanced around, forcing her to hide behind the mast, 'that compass of his isn't working for him. Hasn't worked for over a year. He tries to hide it, but I know the dial's done nothing but spin back and forth since we left Port Royal.' Marty commented that maybe it was broken, but Gibbs had thwarted that idea. 'It worked for Miss Elizabeth, didn't it?' She'd startled at the mention of her name and disappeared below deck before she'd been seen. Since then, Elizabeth had watched Jack whenever he had his compass out. It became clear to her over time that Jack hadn't been very happy with the readings he was getting. And it only added to his frustration. And a frustrated Jack was a difficult one to deal with.

Clearly, that frustration wasn't going to help make this situation an easier either. "Of, course there is more, Jack. You know very well there's more."

He was beginning to get irritated. "Then spit it out."

She felt her own temper rising. "Do you have nothing to say to me?"

"Let me think about it." He made a show of pretending to think, and then stared her in the eye. "No."

"You're not going to-"

"To what, luv? Hmm? Forgive you for killing me?" He paced back and forth across the small storage room. She was the most irritating woman he had ever met. Why couldn't she have left him alone, gone with her fiancé to wherever it is he vanished to? Why did he have to want her so much? _No, do not think about that, not now._

"You did what's right by you. I can't fault you for that." She was relieved, but it was short-lived. "Doesn't mean I have to like it, or forgive it for that matter. Now, if you'll excuse me, _Miss Swann_, I'm needed on my ship." With that said, he opened the door and continued down the passageway.

_This is not going according to plan_. She stormed after him. "I said I was sorry. I sailed to the ends of the earth to bring you back. What more do you want from me, Jack?"

He twirled around to face her, his blood boiling. "What I want is for you to leave me in peace." Upon reflection, he added, "Better yet, I'll leave." He turned to leave again. She ran around and put a hand on his chest to stop him. _Time for plan B_.

"I saw the way you looked at me, Jack. Before, out in the chamber. No man looks that way at woman he wants nothing to do with." She stepped closer to him, only a hairs breadth away. "So prove it."

Whether from anger or from her bodies closness, he was breathing heavily. "What?"

She slowly slid the hand down his body without breaking eye contact. Her hand brushed over his belts and grazed the obvious bulge under his breaches. He struggled to keep his eyes from rolling back and to control his breathing. It was all he could do to keep from throwing her down on the dirt floor and having his way with her. _Think of Norrington naked, think of Norrington naked_._ Bugger, it's not working. Gibbs naked. Nope. Beckett naked. Bloody hell, not even the eunuch naked is helping._ He was loosing his mind with pleasure._ Oh God, Lizzie Swann, what are you doing to me?_ He gave up the fight and let his eyes roll back as the pleasure became too much. He was just about to rethink his decision about the floor when her hand lifted away. He groaned at the loss, but then he felt a strong tug on his belt.

His eyes snapped open to see her holding his compass. Her lips were moving, but he couldn't hear her.

"What?" he squeaked. _For God's sake Sparrow, get a hold of yourself._

She held up the compass. "You said this points to what you want most. Yet you couldn't use it yourself to find the chest you were so desperate for. Now, why is that, hmmm?" He tried to back away from her, but she matched him step for step. "What could you possibly want more than your own freedom?"

She tilted her head back so her lips were right under his. "I don't believe you when you say you want me gone. I think you're lying. But if what you say is true and you want to be as far away from me as possible, then prove it." His back hit the wall and she grabbed his hand and thrust the compass into it.

She looked into his eyes. She could tell he was feeling exposed, but she was too determined to find her answers. "Tell me the truth, Jack," she pleaded, "Tell me what it is you want."

They had flirted almost constantly since the day they met. They had shared a passionate kiss. And now Elizabeth felt a weight that had been holding her down being lifted off her shoulders. It gave her that final piece of freedom she was missing, and the courage to take that final step.

Their eyes were locked as she slowly opened the lid, neither wanted to be the first to look away. But curiosity got the better of her, and she couldn't help but stare at the dial. It wasn't spinning anymore.

He didn't need to see the arrow to know where it pointed. And now she knew too. It was the final straw that broke through his defences. Jack threw the compass aside and seized her arms. He spun them around and pushed her against the wall before sweeping in and claiming her lips with his.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I bow before the Disney gods. All Hail the Mouse.

**A/N:** I am so, incredibly, sorry this took so long. Between writer's block, flash drive issues, and my stupid procrastination streak, this chapter took forever. For that I apologise to everyone who was waiting for this. But, for better or for worse, it's here now. Part of the reason it took so long is that I cannot, for the life of me, write smut. I agonised over it for days and days. Finally, I gave up and started again. That's when my flash drive decided it was time to delete everything on it. (_twitches_). Anyway, moving on. Again, all spelling and grammar errors belong to myself and my spellchecker. Also, my knowledge of British slang isn't the greatest. If I misused any words, I'm sorry. This is unbeta'd, and I'm a little worried about this. So, Reviewers, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Now, on with the show…

* * *

**Chapter 3: Very Much Alike**

Elizabeth didn't know what hit her. One moment she'd been staring at the still dial of the compass, the next her back had hit the wall and Jack's unyielding lips had captured hers. His sudden actions had caught her off guard, causing her to gasp in surprise. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and swept his tongue passed her lips. She wound her arms around him, needing to be closer, to feel him pressed against her. His talented fingers found their way under the hem of her shirt and grazed the small of her back. She heard herself moan when his lips abandoned hers and trailed kisses down her neck. She could feel the last of her fears melting away under his searing heat.

No man had ever dared to touch her this way before. It was exhilarating. She let her hands wander, exploring the unfamiliar terrain of his chest and back. She buried one of her hands under his tangled hair and let the other travel down his chest to the front of his breeches and brazenly cupped his hardness through the cloth.

"Uh, Lizzie," he groaned into her shoulder, his fingers digging into her sides and pulling her impossibly closer. She felt his knee push its way between her legs, and she couldn't help but grind against hard length of his thigh. She craved his tough. But his hot kisses and teasing fingers dancing across her skin were not enough. She wanted, no, _needed_ more.

Her quick hands had the first belt undone before he realised what she was doing. His head instantly shot up from her shoulder and he registered that they were still out in the open. Cursing, he stopped her from undoing the second belt. Her eyes snapped up to his, showing desire laced with confusion.

"We can't do this, Lizzie," he told her as he put some distance between them.

The desire was gone in an instant. She opened her mouth only to close it again when no words came to her tongue. The incredulous look on her face was an ample indicator of her temperament, and the sight was enough to dampen his own. He sighed and waited for the inevitable accusations.

"Why not?"

He started. That was not what he'd expected to hear. "What?"

"Why not?" Elizabeth asked again, her exasperation clear. "Why can't we 'do this'? I saw the compass, Jack. I saw which way the arrow pointed." She began to pace back and forth in front of him, her voice rising. "There's no taking back what we both saw, so you can stop running from it. It's too late now to deny what you feel." She stopped directly in front of him. "You want me, Jack. You. Want. Me." She emphasised each word with a poke to his chest. "More than pirate treasure, more than your precious ship." Her voice softened. "More than anything in this world, you want me; the Governor's daughter turned pirate, the person who condemned you to death only to sail to the ends of the earth and beyond to bring you back, the woman that realised how much you meant to her only after you were gone." She felt tears well up her eyes, but she held them back. "It took a magic compass and your death to make me understand it, but by God, Jack, I want you. I want every part of you; pirate, good man, or otherwise." Her hand reached up and grazed his cheek. "We both want this, so why it can't happen?"

His warm eyes sparkled with amazement. While he'd been amused by her ranting at first, her heartfelt pleas had left him near speechless. The tears that she'd held back now streamed freely down her cheeks. Smiling, he reached up and wiped them away with the tips of his fingers.

"We're in the hallway, love. Not exactly the most private of places for 'this' to happen," he calmly told her.

Shocked, she took in their surroundings. "Oh," she giggled, ducking her head in embarrassment.

"Oh," he mocked her, trying to lighten the mood. He grinned. "Not that I mind a little exhibitionism now and then. If you're up for it, then I suppose I am, too."

She slapped his arm. "You're despicable," she said, rolling her eyes while trying to hide her smile. It was hard to when he was smirking at her like that.

"Sticks and stones, love. We both know you don't mean it."

She looked at him then, her face suddenly serious. "Did you know? On the Pearl, I mean. Did you know then that I…?" She swallowed the rest of the question, unable to finish. But didn't matter since they both knew what she meant.

He stepped around her to avoid her gaze. "Aye," was his solemn answer.

She frowned at his rigid back. "Then why? Why have you been avoiding me since you've been back? If you knew I was sorry, am still sorry, then why can't you forgive me?"

The deafening silence that followed was broken only by the sound of their breathing and the faint voices of the yet still arguing Brethren. He felt more than heard her step closer. He couldn't stop his shoulders from shaking with tension. _Just leave it lie, Lizzie._

Her hand hovered over his shoulder. "Jack?"

"I can't very well forgive you when I can't forgive myself, now can I?" he spit out before he could stop himself. He grimaced. _Dammit_, he thought. He knew he'd said too much. He couldn't see her face, but he knew he'd left her stunned.

She couldn't have been more surprised if he told her he never wanted to set foot on a ship ever again. She had no idea what he was talking about. "Forgive yourself? For what?" she asked.

He turned back around to face her, a forced smile on his lips. He ignored her question. "Well, Miss Swann, I believe we've said all that needs to be said."

"But-?"

He cut her off with a drunkenly wave of his hand. "I think you've held me up long enough with this conversation as it is. I need to get back to the Pearl. Fulfill my captainly duties and all. If you'll excuse me." He made a grand bow before her then turned and walked down the passage towards his ship.

She didn't bother chasing him this time. She was too dumbfounded, and could only watch him walk away from her for the second time that day. _I thought only women had mood swings_. One moment he'd appeared to hate her, the next he clearly wanted her, and then he'd seemed to feel nothing but indifference. He was driving her bloody mad. "Arrgh," she screamed, her hands pulling on her hair.

"He hasn't always been like this."

At the sound of a new voice she jumped and spun around, her hand going to the knife on her hip. She sighed with relief when she saw a man with a bandana across his head and trinkets in his hair.

Letting go of the knife, she smiled. "Captain Sparrow."

The older man merely continued on as if he hadn't stopped speaking. "He plays things closer to the vest now, ye know. Learned that lesson hard over the years. I suppose it's me own fault. If I hadn't left him alone for so long…" he paused and stepped even with her, "well, he might have learned who he can trust and who he can't."

She looked at the old man beside her. The apple had not fallen far from the tree. In his day, she was sure that the senior Captain Sparrow had been quite the heart breaker. His long, matted hair was pulled back with a bandana in a style not unlike his son's, but he had more trinkets in his hair than Jack. She guessed it was because he had more years full of stories to tell. If their relation had not been made obvious by their appearance, she would have still known that this man beside her was Jack's father. They had the same expressions; that mischievous grin and the dangerous glint in their eyes that told you that they were up to no good and the drunkenly manner in which they walked were just a few of the similarities.

"You son is a very infuriating man, Captain Sparrow."

"Ye don't need to tell me, darlin'," he chuckled. "I was just headin' to see the little blighter. Would ye kindly escort me to the Pearl?"

She shook her head. "No, I couldn't. Not now, I-"

"It's an awful long walk for a old man," he pouted.

Sighing, she relented and took his proffered arm as they started down the passage, which Jack had disappeared.

_No, the apple definitely didn't fall far from the tree_.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, it's characters, or anything else affiliated with it. They belong to Disney. _deep breath_ There, I said it. I feel better for it.

**A/N:** Sorry this is a little late. I know I promised it wouldn't be, but sometimes real life interferes. I know I replied to most, if not all of you who reviewed, but I'd like to thank each of you again. You are what makes me want to keep writing. Speaking of which, turns out this story is going to be a little longer than I thought. When I started writing I was aiming for 5 chapters at the very most. Now I'm looking at, at least 7, maybe 8. If my muse is nice to me, possibly 10, Idk. Again, all speling mistakes belong to myself and my spellchecker. I even tested the stupid thing. It doesn't work right. Anyway, on with the show.

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Gibbs stood on the deck, watching over the repairs being made while working on the rail. The Black Pearl had suffered minor damage from her last encounter with the EITC. Since they were going to be anchored in Shipwreck Cove for a few days at least, the captain had ordered the crew to refit the ship as best the could. Gibbs knew they had many battles ahead of them, and any weak spot in the Pearl would leave her vulnerable.

The sound of footsteps behind him made Gibbs turn from his work.

"Well, I says it's not right," came the voice of a blond, one-eyed pirate as he stepped up on deck from below.

"And I says it's none of yer concern," sounded the first's shorter companion, stepping up after him.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. Pintel and Ragetti were at it again. Why Jack had let those two stay on board was a mystery to him. He turned his back and went back to work on the rail.

"She's not ready for such a commitment," said Ragetti with conviction.

Gibbs started and looked at the two pirates. Just what were they talking about? The Pearl? He couldn't figure it out. He quietly stepped closer to hear them better.

"Don't let anyone else hear you talkin' about her like that, or…" Pintel trailed off as he drew his finger across his neck, the threat clear.

"It's true," Ragetti insisted.

Pintel smirked, "Yer just sayin' that 'cause yer jealous."

"I-I am not!" he stuttered, embarrassed. He ducked his head to hide is reddened cheeks.

His companion laughed. "Look at ye. Blushin' like a bride on her weddin' night. Ye want her for yerself. If the captain knew-"

"'If the captain knew' what?" Gibbs asked, finally stepping since he'd had enough of their chatter. The two jumped and spun around to face the first mate.

"We weren't doin' nothin's," yelped Ragetti.

Pintel nodded and put on his most innocent smile. "Nothin' important, Mr. Gibbs, sir," he said as he raised his right hand to salute. "Just talkin' about the fine job ye've been doin' overseeing the Pearl's fixin' up is all. The Captain be mighty proud of ye if he was here." He nudged the taller man not so gently with his elbow.

"Aye, a fine job," Ragetti agreed with a smile of his own.

Gibbs only had time to give them both a sceptical look before he heard his name called out and his attention turned to the docks.

Ragetti's eyes widened with fear. "Oh look, here he comes now. Ye can tell him yerself." He and Pintel took the opportunity to flee below deck. Gibbs tried to stop them, but the captain called again.

"Oi!" Hearing the agitation in his voice, he rushed to the rail to greet the source. The familiar tangle of dark brown hair wrapped in a red scarf became visible just as he reached the side.

"Back so soon, Captain? Brethren meeting gone that bad, has it?" he asked helped Jack up.

"The Brethren pride themselves on their devotion to the Code, Mr. Gibbs. They insist on following it to the letter, including arguing over the smallest of details. It seems the other leaders were misinformed as to its true function." Jack said as he walked towards his cabin, and Gibbs following.

"Ah, guidelines."

Jack turned at his cabin door, "Precisely." Jack spun back to the door, but turned around again. "I'll… be in here," he said pointing behind him. He opened the door to step through, but stopped short. Gibbs watched as he quickly glanced around, as if to make sure no one was listening.

Jack leaned in close to him. "I don't want to be troubled, no matter who, or what, it is. Try and keep everyone away from me cabin, eh?" he whispered with a nervous smile on his face.

"Aye, Captain," the confused first mate said as his captain shut the door in his face. Shaking his head, he went up to the helm where Marty was working.

"The Captain all right?" asked Marty.

Gibbs looked out at the island they were docked at, looking for some explanation for his captain's behaviour. "I don't know what happened on that island, but it's got the captain actin' strange again," he paused, puzzled, "and I think he's missin' a belt."

&&&&&&&&&&

The warm glow of the many lanterns hung on the cavern wall guided them as Elizabeth and the elder Captain Sparrow silently made their way through the maze of corridors that lead to the docks.

Elizabeth had let her mind wander as they walked. She couldn't understand what it was that kept Jack from forgiving her. He'd said so himself, she'd done what was right by her. She'd acted like a pirate. Only now it seemed he was punishing her for being what he claimed her to be all those months ago. And just what did he mean when he said he couldn't forgive himself? For what? He's a freedom-loving pirate. He only does what he wants to. Why would he need to forgive himself? It was mystifying. _He_ was mystifying. She was more than sure that he wanted her. His actions back there had proven that. So why didn't he follow the pirate's motto and 'take what he wants'?

"So, tell me, dearie," Elizabeth jerked out of her thoughts when her companion spoke unexpectedly, "How is it that a fine dame such as yerself got mixed up with a me deviant of a son?" he asked.

Elizabeth sighed, not wanting to spend any more time thinking about that man. "It's a long and winding story, Captain Sparrow."

He gave her a charming grin not unlike his son's. "Ye'll have ta start from the beginning then, won't ye?"

She quietly chuckled. They were just too similar. It was disarming to say the least. "I suppose I will." She paused until the words came to her. "Simply put, Captain Sparrow, he saved my life."

He snorted. "Course he did. Me son can't help but save a beautiful damsel when she's in distress. He knows what rewards usually follow. What surprises me, dearie, is that yer still hangin' around that geezer. And stop calling me Captain Sparrow. Makes me feel old. Names Teague," he smiled again. "Now, tell me more about yerself and how ye met me son."

She wasn't ready to delve into her past just yet. The memory of her father's passing was still too close to the surface, and Will's disappearance still not explained. She did not think she could speak of them without bringing tears to her eyes. He would have to be satisfied by a short account of her meeting Jack. "Well, Teague, like I said, he saved my life. I fainted and fell off the battlements in Port Royal. Your son happened to be on the docks trying to commandeer one of the navy's ships when I fell. He jumped in and rescued me. Being as fascinated with pirates as I was, it was a thrilling experience to meet one as famous as Jack. Later, Barbossa and his men on the Black Pearl captured me, and Jack rescued me again when he regained the Pearl for himself. A year later I found Jack in Tortuga and I joined his crew. And here I am."

"As devilishly handsome as Jack is, and how can he not be seeing as how he's me son, pardon me for sayin' so, but that doesn't sound like a good enough reason for a respectable lady such as yerself to follow him all over the seven seas. There has to be more to the story than that. Sao Feng wouldn't give just any old member of Jack's crew his piece of eight and his place on the Brethren Court. Jack certainly doesn't treat ye like he does his crew, either, my dear." He gave her a look that implored her to go on.

"It really is a long story, Cap- Teague. I fear it would take many hours to tell it all," she insisted. She caught a glimpse of daylight up ahead of them, and didn't know whether to be thankful or not that they were nearing their destination.

"Hmm," was all he said as they came around the last bend and finally immerged from the dark halls of the Brethren's stronghold. The sun was shinning down brightly from the clear blue sky. It was an illusion, hiding the truth of what was truly unravelling around them.

She heard Gibbs call down to them as the approached the hull. "Captain Sparrow and Miss Elizabeth. Are ye comin' aboard?" She started to shake her head.

"Of course we are," exclaimed her companion before she could stop him. He smirked at her and motioned for her to climbed up first. "After ye, dearie."

Scowling, she climbed up the ladder and took Gibbs' offered hand as she reached to top. She quickly glanced around. Most of the crew appeared to be elsewhere, as she only spotted Marty and a few others on deck. And she didn't see Jack anywhere. She was torn between feeling elated or disappointed at not seeing him.

"Well," Teague said as he reached the deck, "would ye look at her." He took a spin around and took in the sight of the Pearl. "Still the prettiest ship there is, ain't she? Thank the heavens that bastard Barbossa didn't do too much damage all those years he had her." He stopped when he came face to face with the first mate. "How've you been, Joshamee old chap?" he said sticking out his hand. Elizabeth was shocked. She had no idea Gibbs knew Jack's father.

"I've been good, Captain Sparrow," he answered, shaking the other man's hand.

Teague laughed. "No doubt ye've to of been, watchin' out for yer captain."

Gibbs smiled a bit. "Well," was all he said.

"Speaking of which, where is that no good son of mine?" Teague asked, looking around for Jack.

"He's indisposed at the moment, sir. He's asked not to be bothered," the portly man told him firmly.

"Is that so." Teague turned back to Gibbs. Elizabeth could see the older man's face, but whatever it was Gibbs saw was enough to make him back away from him.

"Ah, he's in his cabin, sir. Did ye want me to get him?" Gibbs asked carefully.

When the wiry man turned back toward her, a grin was firmly planted on his lips. "No, no, that's all right, Gibbs. I'll get him meself." He glanced over at her. "Help an old man again, darlin'?" It was obvious to her that he didn't need her help, but after seeing the way he'd handled Gibbs, she was sure she didn't want to tell him no. She took his arm yet again and they walked the short distance to the cabin door.

Teague raised his hand and knocked, but the only answer given to them was silence. He tried again, harder this time.

"Go away!" came the call from within.

"Jack Sparrow, open this door before I kick it in!" Teague yelled through the wooden door. There was silence again. Suddenly the door opened to reveal an overconfident looking Jack.

He smirked. "You don't have the strength to kick in a door, old man."

SMACK!

"Ow! Bloody hell! What you do that for?" Jack asked as he held his head where his father had hit him.

"'Don't have the strength' do I? Yer not too old to put over my knee, ye know." Teague said as he pushed past his son and into the captain's cabin.

She'd tried to hold in her amusement, but the look of pure horror on Jack's face when his father suggested spanking him was too much to bear. She burst out laughing, drawing Jack's attention for the first time since he opened the door. His eyes widened at the sight of her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"I asked her to escort me." Teague said from his set at Jack's desk. Jack turned back toward his father as Teague motioned to her. "Don't just stand there, boy. Let the lady in."

She caught Jack's gaze when he turned back around to her. For a moment she was sure he would shut the door in her face, but he proved her wrong. He stepped back.

"Come in, Lizzie."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. It's belongs to Buena Vista, Bruckheimer Films, and the genius minds of Ted Elliot, Terry Rossio, and Gore Verbinski. I do in fact own Captain Jack Sparrow…… Ok, it's just a poster, but a girl can dream right?

**A/N:** Lets try this again, shall we? Sorry for the long wait between chapters, and then confusion with the update I deleted. Anyway, here's the new and _hopefully_ improved chapter 5. A lot of this is based off of **SPOILERS** and **SPECULATIONS** on my own part, so **READ AT YOUR OWN RISK**! The romantic angle takes a back seat in this chapter, but will return. Again, I have no beta, so blame my shoddy spellchecker for all spelling and grammar mistakes. Please be kind and hit the purple button at the bottom of the page. Thank you for reading and for your patience.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"Come in, Lizzie," Jack said, moving out of the doorframe so Elizabeth could step past. She smiled kindly at him as she walked into the cabin, but he avoided her gaze, instead focusing on his father, who was relaxing in his seat behind the table.

Jack shut the door as soon as she was clear of it, and chose to ignore her in favour of glowering at his father. "That's my chair you're sitting in," he grumbled.

Teague was unaffected by his son's displeasure. He simply leaned back and put his feet up on the table. A devilish grin found it's way to his face and he raised his eyebrow, daring the younger man to do something about it.

With Jack's back to her, Elizabeth couldn't see what type of reaction he had to his father's silent challenge, but whatever had passed between the two generations of Sparrow's must have tipped in the elder's favour since Teague's grin widened, and Jack huffed and moved to the corner of the cabin for another chair. He'd just set it down next to the table, and was about to sit, when Teague spoke.

"The lady needs a chair, Jack," he said matter-of-factly, grabbing an open bottle of rum from the table in front of him and taking a swig.

An unreadable smile tugged at the corners of Jack's mouth for a moment before he stepped back and held out the chair. He glanced at her for the first time since she'd come into his cabin. "Would you like a seat, Miss Swann?"

Elizabeth walked forward from her spot just inside the cabin door. "Thank you, Jack," she said, giving him with an empathic smile as she sat down. She was surprised when he pushed her chair in, for she'd never known him to be so gentlemanly, but she guessed it was all a show for his father.

As Jack went to retrieve another chair for himself, Teague leaned forward and held out the bottle of rum towards her. "Care fer a drink, darlin'?"

She was about to decline when a new bottle dropped down onto the table in front of her by Jack on his way around the table with his chair. Teague retracted his hand and bottle.

Jack dropped down into his seat and popped the cork on his own bottle, taking a long drink. He sighed and then turn to look at the other man in silence. Teague appeared to be unaffected by Jack watchful gaze yet again, and kept on drinking.

Elizabeth watched Jack unabashedly as he sat back in his seat, appearing relaxed to the unacquainted eye. But she knew him well enough to know he was anything but. She had no doubt that her presence was contributing to his discomfort. But she was beginning to think she was the cause. Jack's attention was almost completely focused on his father.

The cabin was silent, save for the sloshing of rum in the bottles and the faint sounds of the Black Pearl's crew working out on deck. Elizabeth slipped sparingly on her rum as she pretended to read the maps lain out on the table. She would glance up at her companions every once in a while, but neither of them made any move to speak. Jack continued to stare across the table at Teague, who, in turn, continued to ignore him.

Jack took one last drink from his near-empty bottle, set it down, and sat back in his chair. "What are you doing here, old man?"

"Can't a man visit his son without a reason?" Teague asked, still nursing on his rum.

"You forget that I know you. You always have an agenda." Jack stood up and walked over to his cabinet, pulling out two more bottles. He set one down in front of his father, and stood beside him. "So what do you want?"

The older man stared at the tabletop. "Ye should be down there, helpin' them, ye know."

A sardonic snort came from Jack. He strode across the room, taking a long drink from his bottle. "They don't want my help. They all hate me and the feeling is mutual."

"They'd listen to ye if ye'd start talkin' sense. Instead ye ramble on in that convoluted way of yers that no one can figure out." He paused. "They have no idea what they're getting themselves into. They think they can run from fate, but they can't. Beckett's not gonna stop until every pirate's neck is in the noose, and every last pirate ship is burning and sunk," he dropped his feet from the table and looked Jack in the eye, "We have to meet the Company head on."

Jack held his gaze, the muscles in his jaw twitching. A silent war of words past between father and son. Elizabeth was left wondering what it was she was missing. She was sure they'd forgotten about her.

"Ye should have killed Beckett fourteen years ago when ye had the chance," Teague said at last.

Jack quickly spun around to face the windows, but Elizabeth had caught a glimpse of the anguish written on his face. "I couldn't do that," he whispered.

"And ye've been paying fer that mistake ever since," Teague stood up and walked over to his son, putting a hand on his shoulder. "But ye aren't the only one who made a mistake, and we're gonna use that to our advantage."

"What are you talking about?"

"Beckett should have remembered that the captain always goes down with his ship when he sent the _Wicked Wench_ to the_ Locker_. Instead, he was arrogant fool and forced ye to watch yer ship burn. Yer gonna make sure he knows that was the worst mistake he ever made."

The_ Wicked Wench_? Elizabeth had heard that name before, she was sure of it. But she couldn't remember where.

"I am, am I?"

_Where have I heard that name before?_ It was hidden in the back of her mind, something her father had told her. But if what Teague had said was true, the _Wicked Wench_ was a ship, Jack's ship. What would her father know about that?

"Cutler was a snivelling, conniving fool with delusions of grandeur. He still is."

"Well he is a Lord, head of the East India Trading Company and in possession of Jones' heart, therefore in control of the seven seas. I think he's moved past delusions."

"_Lord_ Beckett died two years ago. And that bastard Cutler got the title because he made sure he was the only one around to inherit it."

"Leave off."

"Ye know it's true."

Lord Beckett the first, Cutler Beckett's father. She remembers meeting him as a child. He'd been the one to offer the Governorship of Port Royal to her father. He'd come to the house unexpectedly, and she'd been caught in her father's library when she shouldn't have been. She'd overheard the entire conversation between them…

_She wasn't supposed to be in here. Her father had forbid it after the last incident. It hadn't been her fault. If he had left all the interesting books on the bottom shelves where she could reach them, she wouldn't have had to use the ladder at all, and it would never have slipped out from under her. She hadn't been that badly hurt, anyway._

_None of the books her governess had deemed appropriate for her were exciting enough to hold her attention. The library, on the other hand, was full of amazing tales just waiting for her to discover. Including the one she'd fallen off the ladder trying to get._

_She could see it now, above her, on the top shelf. She only needed to move the ladder over, and it would be hers for the taking. She just had to be sure not to fall this time._

_The doorknob rattled, startling her. She froze. She was about to be caught! Quickly looking for a hiding spot, she dove underneath her father's desk, pulling herself tight against it._

_The door opened, and she could hear the butler, Edward, speaking._

_"Mr. Swann will be right with you, my Lord. Is there anything I can do for you until he arrives?"_

_Another voice spoke, one Elizabeth didn't recognise. "No, I'm quite all right."_

_"If you will excuse me, my Lord."_

_"Yes, thank you, Edward." The door clicked shut._

_She was trapped. Her father hadn't told her of any expected guests. He always made sure to tell her so she could be on her best behaviour. Whoever it was in the library with her must have arrived unannounced. It also explained why her father was running late._

_The door clicked open again, and she heard her father's voice._

_"Lord Beckett, I hope I haven't kept you waiting long?"_

_Lord Beckett? From what she had overheard her father saying, he was one of the richest and most powerful men in all of London. He was the spearhead of the East India Trading Company. And he was included as one of the King's close friends! She had no idea her father knew him._

_"No, no, not long, Mr. Swann. I was just admiring your library. Quite the collection."_

_"Well, thank you, my Lord. It is quite extensive, but I cannot claim ownership. My wife was an avid reader. The most of these were hers. I'm afraid I do not have the time to sit back and enjoy books very often."_

_"Well, you are a busy man." She could here them sitting down on the couch._

_"Not as busy as you." They both chuckled._

_"No, I suppose not."_

_A pause. "I was sorry to hear of your loss, my Lord. I've heard nothing but good things about Jonathon over the years. It must be hard to accept."_

_Who is Jonathon? she wondered. She knew Lord Beckett had a son. Was that who Jonathon was?_

_"Thank you, Weatherby. Yes, has been hard. What with no body to bury. But, some time has passed since we received word of the Wicked Wench's sinking. Isabelle's has begun to accept it, now. She tried to hold out hope that he had managed to find some island to wait for rescue on. He has always been able to escape whenever he found himself in trouble. But, I fear fate finally caught up to him. The captain went down with the ship."_

_"There was no hope then, that he managed to survive?"_

_"Cutler's ship was the first to come across the wreckage. There was no one alive by the time they arrived, and the nearest island was many miles off. No one, not even Jonathon, could have swum that far."_

_Cutler! That was Lord Beckett's son's name. Cutler Beckett. She'd heard her father speak of him from time to time. He was another young up and comer in the East India Trading Company. It probably didn't hurt that his father was head of the entire operation. But if Cutler was Lord Beckett's son, just who was Jonathon?_

_"I'm sorry. If there is anything I can do for you and your family, do not hesitate to ask."_

_"Thank you again, Mr. Swann, but it won't be necessary. But there is something you can do for the King. It's why I'm here, actually."_

_"I will do whatever His Majesty asks of me."_

_"I am glad to hear that. Governor Richards of Port Royal is ill. His doctors have said he will not make it to next spring. The King has asked me to find a suitable successor."_

_"What can I do to help, my Lord?"_

_"Pack up your belongings and sail to the Caribbean next year as the new Governor."_

"Oh my God."

Jack and Teague both looked up at the sound of a chair scraping against the cabin floor. Elizabeth had suddenly stood up and was staring at Jack like he was a stranger.

She couldn't take her eyes off of him. She'd never dared to think she knew all there was to know about this man in front of her, but she'd felt confident she'd known enough to say she was familiar with him. But now, everything she'd ever read, learned, or been told about Captain Jack Sparrow was in question…

He stepped toward her. "Lizzie? What is it?"

…Right down to his name.

Her shocked, wide eyes met his concerned ones, and she took a breath.

"You're Jonathon Beckett."

* * *

**A/N2:** So, how many people are confused after reading this? Raise your hands. (starts counting) 1, 2, 3, 4….. yeah too many to count. I figured that would happen. In fact, I was counting on it…lol. I feel evil. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** Not mine. See The House of Mouse for further details.

**A/N:** Firstly, I would like to say that I am dedicating this chapter to **howlong**, for her infinite patience in waiting for this chapter. ;) Secondly, this chapter hasn't been beta'd. I was too anxious to post it. So spelling and grammar mistakes belong to my spellchecker and I, yet again. Thirdly, possible **MAJOR Spoilers **ahead forAWE. **Read at you own risk**. Sorry for the semi-confusion last chapter. I can't promise this chapter will clear everything up, but it will be of some help. This chapter is shorter than normal. Apologies. Enjoy, and please review. Thank you.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Jack stopped dead in his tracks, his wide eye's locked on Elizabeth's as everything else faded from view. She couldn't have stunned him more if she'd suddenly declared her undying love for him. Jonathon Beckett was a name he hadn't heard in almost 14 years, and that he'd spent the better part of that time trying to forget. As far as he had known, there were only four people yet alive who knew who Jonathon Beckett really was. Just how she had made the connection, he had no idea.

"Well, I'll give ye credit, girl. Ye've figured it out faster than I thought ye would."

Jack heard Teague's response, and felt his blood begin to boil. The old man was always meddling in his life, and this time he'd gone to far. He spun around on him.

"Just what the _bloody hell_ have you been telling her?!" he roared. He was satisfied to see a hint of panic in his father's eyes before an unyielding façade fell into place.

"I haven't told her anythin'," Teague growled back, "Nothin' she didn't already know."

Jack advanced on him, seething with anger. "You lying, old man."

Teague stood his ground, "I may've wanted the girl to figure it out, Jack, but she's done it all on her own. She had no help from me."

He could feel his hands twitching at his sides, eager to find a target. "Give me one good reason why I should believe you."

Teague looked him straight in the eye and said, "I swear on your mother's grave, Jack. I nev-"

SMACK!

Teague had no time to react before his son's fist slammed into his jaw, the force of the blow knocking him off his feet. He'd knocked out a few teeth too, if the taste of blood was any judge. Gathering his wits, he slowly pulled himself up. He spit the blood and the loose teeth out on the cabin floor, and then lifted his head to face whatever fury was going to be thrown at him.

Jack couldn't stop himself from shaking with suppressed rage. His blood was pounding in his ears, whispering to him to finish what he started. But, somehow, he held back.

"Get off my ship."

&&&&&&&&&

The cabin door had barely slammed shut behind Teague when Jack whirled around on her.

"Whatever he's told you is a lie," Jack told her.

Elizabeth found she could speak the words, so she simply shook her head. She'd never seen such a display of rage from anyone, least of all Jack. She'd seen glimpses of a more serious and resentful side of Jack on occasion. _Rum Runner's Island_, for one. But just as soon as she had seen those glimpses, they would fade away and the eccentric, swaggering drunk would take over. Even she, who had murdered him and deserved his hatred, had never truly seen him furious. But now that she'd seen it, to bare witness to a full assault of Jack's anger was something she hoped never to see again.

Jack was pacing back and forth in front of her. "I'm telling you, he's never spoken the truth in his life. He's words mean nothing." He continued on, pacing around the cabin, insisting his father to be a liar. Only Teague had never mentioned a word to her about Jonathon Beckett and the role he played in Jack's past. She had to tell him the truth.

"He didn't-" she tried to say, but Jack grabbed her by the shoulders, cutting her off.

"He's a lying, cheating, backstabbing bastard, Elizabeth. I don't want you going near him again, all right?"

"But-"

He franticly shook his head, "No 'buts', Lizzie. He only wants to cause trouble, and I'm not going to let him do it. Promise me you won't speak to him again."

"Jack-"

"This isn't up for discussion!" he yelled brusquely, his fingers digging deep into her skin. She flinched in fear under his tightened grip. He must have felt her, since he immediately let her go.

"Sorry. I didn't mean…. I didn't mean to do that," he anxiously apologized, cautiously backing away from her.

Elizabeth swallowed her own anxiety. This Jack before her was disturbingly reminiscent of the one they had found in purgatory weeks ago. The mind trap that was _Davy Jones' Locker_ had left him confused, refusing to listen to reason, and on edge. Barbossa had warned them all that the Jack that came back would not be the same man they knew before. It appeared that there were residual effects, besides his unsociable behaviour, from his stay in the _Locker_.

She carefully took a step toward him. "Jack," she said, reaching out. He avoided her hands and took a step back. "Jack, look at me."

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked quietly, successfully evading her eyes.

"Only a little." She gave him what she hoped was a warm smile. He looked up at her then, and she took the chance to correct Jack's mistake from before. "Jack, your father-"

"He shouldn't have told you," he said solemnly, "he shouldn't have said a bloody a word."

Frustrated that he wouldn't let her speak, she took his face in her hands. "Jack, listen to me." She waited until he looked her in the eye. "Your father told me nothing about Jonathon Beckett. Nothing!"

He shook his head, but she kept her grip on him. "You don't have to lie for him, love. I'm not going to hit him again if that's what you're worried about."

"Jack, I am not lying. I swear that I'm not."

He was mystified, "You have to be! He's the only one that could have told you, Lizzie. It sure as hell wasn't me."

She slowly drew her fingertips across his jaw and down to caress his neck, hoping to sooth his frayed nerves.

"Can we sit down, Jack? I tell you everything I know, but we both need to sit first."

She knew by the look he was giving her that he still didn't believe her, but he acquiesced to her request. He moved to sit back down on at the table, but she caught his hand, stopping him.

"Not there."

She laced their fingers together before pulling him towards a door in the corner of the cabin. She felt him tug back on her hand and looked over her shoulder at him.

"Not that I don't appreciate the thought, love," he said, gesturing to the closed curtain and the bed that lay beyond, "but I'm not exactly _up_ for it, if you get my meaning."

She scowled at him. "That is not my intention."

He smirked, and for a moment, he was his old self again. "Pity, that."

"And what happened to not being 'up' for it, hmmm?" she threw back at him, before pulling him towards his small bedroom again. He shrugged, but didn't answer.

She pushed back the red curtain and entered Jack's private chambers. Inside was a room larger than she had originally thought. There was a lavishly designed, stained wood closet on the right. At first glance it appeared to be made of oak, but she could not be certain. Figures similar to those throughout the Pearl were meticulously carved into it. Next to it hung an oval mirror, cracked at the bottom. A cloudy window, just like its counterparts in the outer cabin, took up the outside wall. And, finally, under the window and running along the adjacent wall was their destination. Looming before her, the bed was adorned with what looked to be simple, but clean off-white sheets, two pillows, and an oversized, down-stuffed, faded red bedspread that could cover the whole bed twice over with room to spare. Clamping down on the shyness creeping into the corners of her mind, she steeled her nerves and took a seat on the corner of the bed.

She gazed up at Jack, who stood just inside the curtain, leaning against he wall and staring at her in return. There was a flicker of desire in his eyes, but it was overshadowed by uncertainty. She patted the space on the bed beside her. "Sit, Jack. Please."

He pushed off the wall and swaggered the short distance to the bed, and gently sat down beside her. Taking his hand again, she caressed each finger with the work-worn pad of her thumb, trying to put off the inevitable.

"What did my father tell you, Elizabeth?" Jack asked, not letting her ignore the real reason she had dragged them in his bedroom.

She sighed, but didn't let go of his hand. "When I was a younger," she started, ignoring his question, "and still living in London, my father received an unexpected visitor. The man had been sent by the King to ask my father to become the next Governor of Jamaica."

"That's fascinating, love, really. But what's it got to do wi-?" She put a finger to his lips.

"Let me finish and I'll tell you," she scolded. "As I was saying, the King's envoy had come to the house unexpectedly, so when he was brought into the library to wait for my father, I was hiding under a desk." He tried to speak again, but she shushed him. "It doesn't matter why I was under the desk. What matters is that I overheard the entire conversation between my father and this other man, the King's envoy." She paused and looked Jack in the eye. "That was almost thirteen years ago, and the King's envoy was also his friend, Lord Beckett."

His loose hold on her hand tightened, but she kept on. "Lord Beckett was famous the Empire over, but most especially among Londoners. Everyone, rich, poor, and otherwise knew of that family. And when my father had mentioned a loss that they had suffered, I had to know just who it was. All I had to go by was a name. Jonathon."

His eyes widened, but he stayed quiet. "I didn't dare ask my father who Jonathon was, for he would have known I had heard him speaking with Lord Beckett. So I went to the next best source of information in the house, the maid Lobelia. She's the one who told me about Jonathon. That he was Lord Beckett's nephew who had been raised like his own son. And that he'd been the captain of a merchant ship that had been shipwrecked somewhere in the Caribbean. That they'd presumed him to be dead."

Her companion's eyes seemed to be locked on some long forgotten sight, as he stared out into the main cabin. She thought she saw a reflection of tears in his eyes. "How did you figure out that it was me?" he whispered.

She squeezed his hand. "It was what your father and you were saying earlier. Just bits and pieces that wouldn't make sense to someone who did know what to look for. But when collected together with what I already knew, it gave me a full picture. It was the ship's name that gave it away in the end."

Jack smiled. "_The Wicked Wench_." She smiled too.

"I do have a couple of questions, Jack," she told him. "For one, how did you survive the shipwreck?"

His smile fell, the mood becoming sombre. "It wasn't a shipwreck, love. We were attacked."

"Attacked? By who?"

He gave her a joyless grin. "Dear cousin Cutler."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:**_Pirates of the Caribbean _does not belong to me, no matter how much I wish it were true. sniff

**A/N:** I'm a over week late with this. My muse and I have been playing hide and seek for the past few weeks, and she refused to give up. Anyway, my soundtrack while (re)writing this chapter was _Snow Patrol_'s_ Chasing Cars_,_ Make This Go On Forever_,_ Set Fire to the Third Bar_,and_ Open Your Eyes_. Whether it's noticeable or not, each song left their mark on this chapter. On that note (oh look, a pun!), I hope you enjoy this. Reviews are most welcome, and thank you for reading.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Candlelight flickered across the bulkhead, casting an iridescent glow. The day had long since dwindled away, taking the sun with it, and shadows had seeped into the room, dancing around its edges.

Elizabeth had asked Jack to tell her everything, and he did not disappoint. For hours they sat, shoulder-to-shoulder and leaning against the headboard, as he weaved the long and winding tale that was Jonathon Beckett. A rum bottle, that he had produced from somewhere in the folds of his bedding, passed between them as he told her of his many adventures. Quietly, she had listened to his voice has he spoke of things she was certain he had never told anyone before.

…

_"My mother was with child, trying to barter passage back to London when the Navy caught up to her in Nassau. I was born a few weeks earlier than expected, and they hung her the next day. It was six days later that my uncle's ship came into port and with it a stay of execution signed by the King."_

…

_"Arthur and Isabelle didn't have any children when they took me in. They raised me as if I was their own son. I was treated like a crown prince for four years. Then Cutler came along, and it all went to hell."_

…

_"Bloody Cuddy was nothing more than a spoiled little bugger that looked down his nose at anyone he thought below his class, present company included. The fact that I was the bastard son of a pirate and considered family bothered him to no end, and he made it his mission in life to remind me of that every day. That, of course, did not trouble me in the least, seeing as I, the lowly commoner, was set to inherit a lofty sum of the Beckett estate, to which _I _reminded him__ of most often."_

…

_"I knew from the time I was a boy that my life was at sea. Uncle Arthur had taken both of us lads out on his flagship many times over the years. Cuddy would follow his father into the cabin, complaining about the sea air or some other foolish thing. But me, I was right at home on deck. I knew then that there was no other place I'd rather be than at the helm a ship that was my own."_

…

"_The little bastard thought he'd finally won when my uncle told us that I wasn't allowed to join the Company because of some such nonsense about my father being wanted by the Crown. It was all politics. Cuddy was given a commission on board the flagship under the watchful eye of his father, and I was left looking for work on small-time merchant ships, anything that would get me out to sea."_

…

_"I'd been sailing on the _Charming Molly_ for just over a year, when I first saw her. She was dock down near the rest of the EITC ships, done up in that ugly red colour my uncle was so fond of, and not quite finished. But I could tell she was a beauty. There was something mysterious about her. I knew right then that I had to have her."_

…

_"After some careful negotiations with my uncle, she was mine; under the contractual conditions I only do business with the EITC. I was captain of my own ship. All I needed was a crew, which was easy enough to find in England. After I commandeered a handful of my old crewmates from the _Charming Molly_, including one Bill Turner, the rest came easily enough."_

…

"_Right before the maiden voyage, I christened her the _Wicked Wench_, for the iniquitous way she'd pillaged my heart."_

…

The legend that was Captain Jack Sparrow was slowly stripped bare, and in it's place was the man she had always seen. So many different stories, that all came together to make the man that was here with her now.

Elizabeth found herself relaxing more and more as the tale went on. At some point, her head had found it's way onto his shoulder. The combination of rum and the rhythm of his voice had lulled her into a state of lethargy.

She smiled as she listened to him ramble on about his days as Captain of the _Wicked Wench_, his hands gesturing wildly to emulate moments of grand adventure on the high seas. She thought this must have been the longest Jack had ever gone without lying. Oh, she was sure he'd embellished a few details here and there, but she knew now that there always was a bit of truth in his fictions. One only had to listen to what he didn't say to hear the whole story.

Lost in her ruminations, she failed to notice she could no longer hear his voice. Troubled, she looked up. "Why'd you stop?"

He lifted the bottle to his still lips and took another sip of rum. "You were too quiet. I thought you'd fallen asleep. "

"Not yet," she said, stealing the bottle from his hands, "I have no plans of letting you go without hearing the end of the tale, no matter what you say." She drank the last dregs before laying her head back down. "Now, keep telling the story."

He softly chuckled, "As you wish, my lady." He paused. "Where was I? Oh, yes. I believe we were nearing the end of the tale." He stopped suddenly, and began rooting under the covers. She was about to ask what he was looking for, when his hand reappeared, and another rum bottle in its grasp.

She rolled her eyes as he popped the cork and down a mouthful, "Really, Jack. It's a wonder you can sleep at night with all those bottles rolling around in your sheets. Do you keep all of your goods lying under there?"

He cocked his head, and smirked. "Just those that I treasure most and want to keep safe from prying eyes and thieving fingers." A wicked gleam came over his eyes. "And there's nothing wrong with a little rolling between the sheets."

She snorted and smacked his chest. "You're despicable," she huffed, "Now quit stalling and finish the story."

He had the decency to give her a chagrin look. "Oh, all right, love." Corking the bottle, he tossed it down at the end of the bed. He sighed, "Do you really want to hear this? It's not exactly one of my finest hours."

Elizabeth lifted her eyes to meet his dark gaze. "Yes, Jack, I want to know you. All of you."

&&&&&&&&&

Jack couldn't look away from her slumbering form. Elizabeth continued to amaze him, over and over again. He knew he shouldn't be so shocked, but he couldn't help it.

She was still here.

She knew him now, knew what haunted him for fourteen years, what he'd vowed to himself to never repeat again. She knew of that fateful day when a young, naïve captain doomed his ship and crew for the sake of African slaves locked away in his cargo hold. He'd been a fool to think he could outrun Beckett and his orders. He'd been overconfident, trusting his beloved ship to keep him ahead of trouble. He'd paid the price for that stupidity in the blood of his crew. For all the lives he'd managed to free, he'd lost in kind to _Davy Jones' Locker_. Had it not been for Bootstrap, he'd have gone down too.

She'd kept silent, as he'd told her every sordid detail of his downfall from society and humble beginnings in piracy. He'd worried that it had been too much at one time, that he should have held back. When all was said and done, and the guilt he'd carried with him all this time was laid bare at her feet, she'd looked him straight in the eye and smiled.

_"You're a good man, Jack,"_ she told him.

For more than an hour, he'd watched her face. There was no sign of disgust or hatred. Only the calm features of a tranquil sleep. _She's a wonder, this one_, he told himself. Even after everything he'd said and done, she trusted him enough to leave herself helpless in his arms.

The dying flickers of the candle flame drew his gaze from her. It was getting late, very late. They would be up at dawn tomorrow, most likely putting the finishing touches on the Brethren's battle plan before headed out to meet the Company's fleet head on. He knew he should wake her, shoo her off to find her own bed or hammock, but he was a selfish man. If the battle went ill, he might never get the chance to have her in his bed again.

Mindful of her head, he tenderly removed his arm from around her and slowly lowered her head to the pillow. _That was easy enough_, he thought, _but how do I get up?_ He was still wearing most of his effects, which wouldn't comfortable. And they were on top of the covers. He was going to have to climb over her.

_Don't wake up, don't wake up, don't wake up_, he chanted to himself as he carefully lifted himself over Elizabeth's sleeping body. He sighed in relief when both his feet were safely on the cabin floor. His boots, belts, and vest off, he turned his attention back to her. There was no chance of getting her under the blanket without her waking up. Risking life and limb, he knelt down next to her.

"Lizzy," he called, "You have to wake up, darling."

She stirred only a little, "Hmm."

"Come on, love."

"Jack?" she groggily asked, her eyes still closed.

He smiled, "Aye, love. Time to get you under the covers."

"My boots," she simply told him. He looked down at her feet and saw that they were still on.

He turned back to her face, "You want them off, I take it." No answer was forthcoming. "Right." He moved to the end of the bed and gently pulled her boots from her feet and set them on the floor.

He turned back to her face; fully aware she had fallen back asleep. He tried to wake her again, but it was no use. Sighing in frustration, he pulled her up, laying her head on his shoulder as he slid the blankets down past her feet.

"You better bloody thank me for this in the morning, love," he grumbled under his breath as he lowered her down onto the bed and pulled the blankets up over her.

She rolled onto her side in her sleep, "Thank you."

Snorting, he pushed a stray hair back from her face. "You're welcome, love." He watched her for a few moments, soaking in the sight of her in his bed, before turning to blow out the candle.

"Jack?" she called out from behind him, sounding more alert than before.

"Yes, love?" he answered, kneeling next to her face.

Her eyes blinked open and somehow found his in the near pitch dark. "I'm under your covers."

Nervously, he swallowed, "Aye, you are."

She stopped to consider that for a second, "You said you keep the things you treasure beneath your sheets, so that they're safe."

He grinned, "I did."

"Are you going to keep me safe?"

He ran his fingers through her hair, feeling her tremble beneath them. "Aye," he whispered, "I'm going to try."

* * *

**A/N2:** I hate this chapter. It sucks, imo. But it got me where I needed it too, so there you go. _Next chapter: _Morning comes, and things get... _interesting_... between our favourite twosome. And Barbossa makes a reappearance! 


End file.
